


for all the pennies in your pocket

by jinxfabray



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Always a girl!Nick, Angst, But mostly angst, F/F, Vague Sex, a lot of pining on everyone's side, always a girl!Harry, but also fluff, don't listen to 505 while reading, the sex isn't vague but the descriptions are vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxfabray/pseuds/jinxfabray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's always leaving, and Nick's tired of being left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for all the pennies in your pocket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oopsiedaisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopsiedaisy/gifts).



> this is my first attempt at gryles so i hope it's turned out alright?? 
> 
> it's for nicole, who had amazing prompts, and i went with:
> 
> "girl harry + girl nick. canon angst dealing with beautiful popstar harry styles returning to london + ruining nick's life before she leaves"
> 
> a billion thanks to jas for betaing and being the most supportive bean, and to tasha for linking me to the awful sad song the title comes from (scars by james bay).

She should’ve known it was a sign.

Nick doesn’t /how/ she could’ve known, but deep down, she feels like she really should have, because though she thinks of Harry an awful lot, way more than she’s willing to admit, it’s not every morning she wakes up panting her name.

Clearly, it’s a sign.

She was dreaming of possibly Taylor Swift or someone else who’s really hot and tall and has long legs which, in her dream, were on both sides of her head. There were other details but she’s not so sure anymore as she starts to wake up. All she knows is sometimes, you just need to start your morning getting off. Except it’s not as easy at that because then right when she’s really getting into it, Pig decides to wake up, and it’s very hard to focus with a dog staring at her, but it’s too late now and if she doesn’t actually come she’s going to be on edge all morning, and her life is impossibly hard.

She’s considering giving up and taking a very cold shower, absent mindedly rubbing her clit while she weighs the pros and cons of it, when she remembers that one spot that’s a bit lower, more on the side of her folds, the one Harry discovered last time she was in that bed with her, and it works like magic. Maybe it’s the thought of Harry that works, but she chooses to believe it’s the spot, and how for some reason it’s incredibly sensitive, except she can’t stop thinking about Harry, rubbing her as she kissed her breasts so, so softly, and when she finally comes, it’s her name that she cries out.

Sometimes, Nick really hates herself for being so stupidly weak when it comes to her.

It’s all she can think about on her drive to work, how it’s been months and Harry’s been happily prancing about stages all over the world without even thinking of Nick, and she has to stop pining because it’s childish and it doesn’t do her any good. She doesn’t even know when Harry will be back, because tour finished last week but Harry’s been in LA since then, finishing up the new album and going to parties or whatever other dumb thing her popstar status requires her to do, and she hasn’t even called Nick, not once. It’s fine. She’s busy. Nick understands.

She’s muttering all this to herself as she climbs up the stairs, checking the time because she got here fifteen minutes early on purpose so she could have coffee and bother Fiona for a bit, when she runs headfirst into someone.

“Shit, sorry, I was - “ Her apologies vanish into thin air when she looks up and finds those stupid green eyes staring back at her, infinitely amused. “What are you even doing here?”

“Not the warm welcome I was expecting, Grim, but it’s nice to see you too, and yes, I did miss you more,” Harry grins, and Nick wants to kick her. Hard. On the knee.

“You didn’t say you were coming,” she starts saying, and she’s aware she sounds only vaguely irritated when she’s aiming for profoundly pissed off, but she can’t keep her face straight when Harry’s looking at her like that. “And you didn’t call. At all. Just those cryptic texts full of emojis that mean absolutely nothing, by the way.”

Harry doesn’t seem to be catching on to the fact that she’s yelling at her because she’s upset and wants her to stop smiling like a fool, and she just takes a step towards her and hugs her. It’s ridiculous that she’s such a child and yet she has such long limbs that when she puts her arms around her, Nick feels like she’s the tiny one here.

“I’m sorry. I don’t like hearing your voice when I can’t see you, it makes me sad,” Harry says, and Nick deflates in her arms. She always does that. Waltzes back into her life, and tears her walls down with a flash of white teeth and a hug. She wishes she didn’t like it so much.

“Still could have texted words,” she says through her teeth, hoping there’s at least some tiny remainder of her bitterness in her tone, though she doubts it. But then, she continues to say, “Are you staying? Or did you come all the way here at this ungodly hour just to surprise me and now you’re gonna hop off to LA again and leave me again?”

That definitely sounded bitter enough.

“Will keep it in mind for the next time,” Harry nods as she finally lets go of her. “And I’m staying, if you let me. Promise I won’t throw too many things at you.”

“You always say that,” Nick rolls her eyes, but she can’t help smiling at that. Even if she might be leaving after the show, or that same night, at least she gets to keep her for a couple of hours, and that’s not nearly enough but she’ll take every bit she can get.

She stays for the show, and then they go and get breakfast together, and Nick feels like maybe she should ask for how long she’s staying, but she can’t do it. It’s better like this. She can pretend she’s here for good, back in London, where she belongs.

(Next to Nick, where she belongs.)

By far the most stupid part of this whole Harry thing, is that even after all these years, Nick still feels as nervous as if they’d never kissed when she’s around. It’s the uncertainty that makes her stomach feel full of butterflies, because they’re nothing serious, and sometimes Harry stays over and they go to sleep and talk about life and don’t even kiss goodnight, and then sometimes she can’t keep her hands off her for one second. It’s exciting, but Nick thinks she wouldn’t mind some stability, even if it made things a bit more boring. She knows she can’t have that, not with Harry being always away, but a girl can dream.

Instead, however, she has this. She has Harry dropping down on her couch as if this was her home and turning on the telly, while constantly chattering about all the dumb things Liam and Louis got up to while on tour. Taking her shoes off, and offering to make a cup of tea when Nick sits down next to her, a bit hesitant.

She has Harry falling asleep on her shoulder, and she thinks this could be enough for her, if she could have it more often.

  
  


They’re sitting on the couch eating Chinese, and Nick still doesn’t know when Harry’s leaving (she wants to think “if”, but that would be too optimistic of her). She hasn’t said a word about it, hasn’t even mentioned the possibility of leaving Nick’s place either, and Nick’s not gonna be the one to bring it up, it’s a matter of self preservation.

“I really did miss you,” Harry says, and Nick was actually starting to pay attention to the movie she’d put on, so she doesn’t look away from the TV. She’s also afraid she might start crying if she does, but that’s not as important as her interest in Mila Kunis in this movie, clearly. “Hey. I would’ve come sooner, you know,” Harry puts a hand on her chin to get her to look at her, and Nick has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her face straight.

It’s unfair that she gets to do this, and as intensely aware as Nick is of this, she still can’t bring herself to do anything about it when Harry leans in to kiss her. She’s waited for too long, spent too many nights wishing she was here to say no when she finally has her sitting right next to her.

So she kisses her back, lets her push her down onto the couch, and she stops thinking about all the reasons why she should put a stop to this. She wants Harry too much, in too many ways, and she’s gonna let herself have her the one way she can. Her heart can whine about it later, but right now, she’s more concerned about Harry kissing her collarbones and tugging at her pants, trying to get them off.

Harry’s pretty straightforward when it comes to sex. (Maybe it’s because she doesn’t have time to waste when she’s always running between places. Maybe that’s not a great thought to have right now.) She’s careful, but she knows exactly the spots she needs to kiss Nick to turn her on fast, sucks on the same place right under her ear every time, and it never fails to make Nick moan a little louder than she intends to.

She sits up to take her shirt off, and Nick leans in automatically to kiss the stupid gigantic moth she’s been dreaming of for the last couple of months, gets her hands on her back to help her unclasp her bra but Harry pushes her back onto the couch and gets her shirt open so fast Nick worries about the buttons for about a quarter of a second. Then, she’s got Harry kissing her stomach, then lower, then unzipping her jeans, and all Nick can do is reach out to tangle her fingers in Harry’s curls.

Sometimes, Harry likes to put her hair up in a bun before eating her out, which Nick can understand because her hair is really long and it gets everywhere, but she likes it better like this. Likes having something to hold on to, something she can tug at when Harry’s doing that thing she’s doing right now where she breathes heavily against her inner thigh but won’t actually get her tongue where she needs it.

“God, I missed you,” Harry breathes out, and Nick wants to glare at her, wants to maybe cry a little bit as well, but then Harry’s tongue is licking her thoroughly and she just bites her lip and tries not to whimper too ridiculously.

When she comes, Harry’s got two fingers inside her and she’s kissing her breasts, sucking little marks on her skin. She cries out as she starts to shake, and it’s intense because it’s /Harry/ and she keeps telling herself she’s not in love but then she looks down at her, mid orgasm, and she knows she’s completely fucked.

“I missed you too,” she breathes out, tugging at her hair hard to get her to come up and kiss her, needing more, wanting her to stay this close forever.

“Wanted to come home,” Harry mumbles against her lips, and Nick closes her eyes because she doesn’t think she can hear this. Not now, with Harry casually sucking her come off her fingers, but also, not ever. “Nick. Hey.”

She doesn’t notice there are tears running down her cheeks until Harry tries to wipe one with her thumb, but she still refuses to open her eyes. Home, she says. She dares call this home.

“I can’t do this,” Nick whispers, and this is such terrible timing to be doing this. She’s naked and still feeling boneless after coming all over Harry’s fingers, but it’s Harry’s fault. All of it. Everything that’s ever gone wrong in her life, it’s all because of Harry.

“What do you mean,” Harry asks, sitting up and putting some distance between them which makes Nick immediately regret having ever said anything because she needs Harry to stay glued to her side for the five minutes a year she gets to be in the same city as her, “this? Sex? Are you. God. Are you seeing someone?”

Harry sounds honestly baffled at this, and Nick laughs a little bitterly. If only. She finally opens her eyes, hugging her knees to her chest to feel less exposed, though it’s Harry. She always feels like she’s got everything she has on display with her.

“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t - god, I honestly thought I could do it. Be friends who hook up sometimes, see you twice a year, and then move on with my life while you’re away, but I really can’t, Harry.”

The worst part, and this is unexpected, is how surprised Harry looks. Like she had no clue. Like she had never even imagined Nick was crying at home with a bottle of wine missing her while she was being spotted out and about with whoever was in LA at the time. Like she just said home without meaning all the things it means to Nick.

“But I miss you too, when I’m not here. I wish I could be here, with you, you know that,” Harry sounds a little desperate, but it doesn’t help. Nick can’t just sit there and look at her when she knows she just put an end to it, so she starts putting her clothes back on. “Nick, please. I miss you all the time, you’re. I wouldn’t even come to London if it wasn’t for you, but you’re here, so that makes it. You know. Makes it home.”

Nick stops buttoning up her shirt, frozen because now she’s said it again and in the moment of silence that comes after she says it, she can almost hear her heart shattering.

“I love you, Nick. You know that. I know you don’t want - I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to wait for me, because I know sometimes I’m gone for a very long time. But I’ve been in love with you for ages, I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it when I’m not gonna stay.”

“Of course I don’t wanna hear it,” Nick says, and she surprises herself because she always thought she did want to know. But it’s pointless, if she’s still gonna leave. “You’re never here. You come here and you turn my world upside down and then you’re gone and I’m left here, and you - you can’t understand it, because you’re the one who leaves, and I’m the one who gets left behind.”

Harry looks a bit like she’s in shock, and Nick can understand that because she’s baffled herself by saying all of that. After all this time doing her absolute best to keep herself from thinking too much about it, she hadn’t even realized how strongly she felt about all of it. How deeply it hurt.

“I never meant it like that,” Harry says, her voice tiny and inaudible, and her eyes are open so wide Nick fears she might cry. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if she cries.

“I know you don’t,” Nick says and her tone is comforting because even now, she’s gonna try to make this easy for Harry. “We can be friends, always, but maybe. Not this.”

“We could try?” She offers weakly, like she knows Nick’s gonna say no but she just has to give it a shot.

Nick has to say no. It’s not going to work, because if she does this, if she gives all she has left to Harry, then when she leaves there’ll be nothing left. And Harry has such an exciting life, touring all over the world, it’s easy for her to get caught up in meeting new people and seeing new places, whereas Nick has London, and she loves London, but it’s always the same streets, and the same parks, and the same friends. The streets with dark corners they hid in to make out, the parks they took Pig to, hands brushing always so casually. The friends that have heard Nick cry over her far too many times.

When Harry leaves, Nick is left with London, and she’s alright with that. If they do this, Nick will be left with a constant aching in her heart, and the ever present thought of how she’s holding Harry back when she should be as free as a butterfly to make the most out of this amazing life she gets to live.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she mumbles, and she has to look away because Harry’s chewing on her lower lip like she’s trying not to cry, and she looks devastated but. There is a thought in the back of Nick’s mind, like a bad seed, growing and taking over. Harry might be heartbroken now, but she’s gonna walk out of here and hop out on a plane and get back to her luxurious life, and get over Nick in a heartbeat.

It’s that thought that allows her to stay in the exact same position even when she hears Harry get up, and it’s that thought that helps her gather the strength to let her walk away without begging her to stay.

The next morning, the first headline she sees when she checks Twitter informs her Harry was seen arriving at LAX, and she thinks she must have forgotten to add sugar to her moccachino because it tastes particularly bitter.

  
  


“Gonna have to apologize to our listeners this morning, but our dear Grimmy seems to have a bit of a raging hangover she’s dealing with?” Fifi nudges her, and Nick’s had her face buried in her hands for the past three songs, so caught up in being sad she didn’t notice when the music stopped.

“Sorry. No, not a hangover, I haven’t actually had a drink in about a week, actually, though I really feel like I should have one. Or, like, a billion,” she says, and she can’t help sounding intensely bitter these days, because if there is one thing worse than having her heart broken is the knowledge that she did it to herself.

“Oh, no, I know that tone,” Fi reaches out to grab her arm, and Nick rolls her eyes at her because she doesn’t need all the five listeners her show has left to know how pathetic she is. “You never tell us about your heartbreak stories anymore, should we start playing more sad songs to get you inspired?”

Yes, Nick thinks to herself, play all the sad songs. They should just play every sad song in the world, in a loop, and let her rest her face on the desk until it’s time for the next show, because this is all worthless. Everything is worthless, and she made a stupid choice, but it wasn’t letting Harry walk away, it was speaking to Harry that first time. She should’ve seen the danger in her dumb green eyes and run in the opposite direction.

“Trust me, I’m inspired enough without the sad songs. Got enough sad in me to inspire a whole generation of songwriters. But I’m not here to whine over how pathetic my love life is these days, I’m here to discuss Florence and her new song which we are absolutely loving and I’m pretty certain we haven’t played yet today, but we’ve all heard it, right?”

Fiona rolls her eyes at her, but she’s a kind soul so she complies, and somehow, Nick makes it out the show without crying or confessing to the world that she turned down Harry freaking Styles. All in all, she’s pretty sure she can call this a victory.

As she watches the buildings pass on the ride back home, she thinks of her bed and how tempting it sounds to just go back to sleep. She’s done enough for the day, put a brave face on when she wanted to whine and hit her forehead against the wall multiple times, and Pig would surely appreciate it, considering how rainy it is outside.

It’s not that she’s keeping tabs on her, but after so long of talking everyone’s ears off about Harry, it’s impossible to get the world to stop telling her about Harry now. So she heard, and she understands, she knows Harry loves LA. Of course she’s buying a house there. And she did tell her Nick was the only reason she kept coming back to London, so it makes sense that she wouldn’t be interested in being back anymore.

It still hurts a little, that’s all.

Pig is, as expected, extremely pleased to be getting into bed with Nick. She doesn’t seem to mind her scrolling through Twitter and not paying much attention to her as long as she keeps rubbing her back, and Nick appreciates it. She doesn’t even know why she’s putting herself through the pain of going through her mentions when they’re usually terrible, and today’s no exception, but there’s some nice ones and that’s enough for her. She doesn’t need the entire world to love her.

Her phone buzzes in her hand and it’s so startling she accidentally drops it on her face, like the smart grown up she is. When she picks it back up, she nearly does it again, because Harry’s calling her and she’s accidentally picked up, though she would’ve picked up anyway. Maybe. Possibly. She’s not sure.

“Hey,” Harry sounds sleepy, and she drags out her vowels even more than usual. Nick misses her so much she feels like she’s drowning.

“Hi,” she’s trying to work out what time it is in LA, if Harry’s just tired or if it’s the middle of the night, but she doesn’t even know anymore. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just. I know you told me not to. But I miss you. I can’t make myself stop.”

Nick takes a deep breath, because she hasn’t had enough hours of sleep to deal with this. She doesn’t even have an answer, she’s already said everything she had to say.

“I could fly. I’m stupidly rich and my mom doesn’t want me to buy her any more houses, I could spend all my money on flying back to you whenever you needed me. Always be at your door after a show. Spend all the money I’d save on hotels in going back to you.”

This is terrible, and Nick shifts so she can hide her face in the pillow, pressing the phone to her ear because she hates Harry and wishes she would stop talking but she can’t make herself say it.

“Nick,” Harry says softly, and it almost sounds like she’s there, in bed with her, Nick can almost feel her lips pressed against her ear. “Nick, I love you, and I can buy a thousand houses, but if I don’t have you, I don’t have a home. It doesn’t work, I’ve tried it, and it never works without you.”

“Harry, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nick whimpers out, and she doesn’t think she can understand what she’s saying since she’s still got her face buried in the pillow, but she doesn’t care. “You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you. You’ll make yourself a new home.”

“I don’t want a new home,” Harry sounds a bit like she’s just stomped her foot on the floor, and if Nick wasn’t currently feeling like she’s getting her heart ripped out of her chest - again -, she would laugh at her. “I want you. And I think you want me too. And I love LA but there’s no point in sunshine and parties when I could have you in bed while it rains outside.”

Nick sits up so suddenly Pig barks, a bit confused.

“It always rains in London. That’s what you’re saying.” Her heart is pounding and it’s stupid because she knows that’s what Harry’s saying. She was buying a house in LA yesterday, she can’t be in London now.

“It’s raining outside your window and I’m getting really wet, is what I’m saying.” Harry huffs out a laugh, and Nick stumbles on her own feet trying to get out of bed, getting caught up in her sheets and dropping her phone on the floor, the call ending accidentally.

“Shit, shit,” she keeps tripping over things while trying to reach the window, and she hadn’t realized it but it’s straight up pouring by now. Harry’s nowhere to be seen, and for a moment she’s afraid she might have fucked this up again. Still, she opens her door and jumps on the elevator, only realizing after the door closes that she’s not wearing pants. It’s fine, her neighbors have seen her do worse things, and if Harry’s out there -

She sees her mane of untamed curls behind the glass window, and her heart is racing out of her chest. Harry’s sitting on her doorstep, waiting under the rain, soaked to the bone, and she hasn’t moved even though Nick literally hang up on her. When she finally opens the door, Harry looks truly shocked that she’s there.

“I thought you’d got mad,” she says, getting to her feet.

"You’re the one who’s mad, standing in the rain like a complete idiot,” Nick nearly yells at her, stepping back to let her come inside.

“I was gonna wait for you,” Harry says sheepishly, and then she actually looks at Nick and the grin on her face is too bright to look at. “You’re not wearing pants.”

“That’s - well.” Nick’s blushing furiously, but her lack of pants is not important right now, and she wishes Harry would stop staring so much at her. “Why are you here. Did you forget something.”

“Yes,” Harry keeps smiling at her, and it’s getting obnoxious, but then she backs her up against the wall and Nick forgets how to breathe. “You. I think I accidentally left you behind, but I didn’t mean to do that. Meant to carry you with me, always. You have to let me, Nick. See how easy it is for me to fly back, I’ll do it all the time. I can’t be away from you, and I heard you being sad on the radio today, I know you can’t be away from me either. Unless you were sad about something else.”

Her face is ridiculous, and she’s frowning because clearly she hadn’t considered maybe Nick’s world didn’t revolve around her until just now. But it does, it has for years, and Nick doesn’t have the strength to keep fighting this.

“It’s going to be terrible. I’m going to text you all the time. You’re gonna have to text actual words or I’ll get mad. I’ll always be mad because you’ll be away and I’ll be sad and lonely, and then when you come back I’ll be incredibly clingy and you won’t be able to get rid of me. Everyone’s going to say I’m too old for you and I’m taking advantage and they’re all going to hate me and then maybe they’ll hate you too, and - “

She’s such a cliche, kissing her mid sentence, and Nick loves her for it.

“I don’t care,” Harry rests her forehead against hers, and her hair’s getting everywhere and it’s so wet it’s sticking to Nick’s face too. But Harry’s breathless from kissing her, and she’s grinning like she knows she’s won already. “We’re gonna do it right now. I’m gonna tell you I love you and that I want you to be my home, and you’re not gonna kick me out for it, and we’re going to cuddle in bed and make out, and you’ll tell me how you feel, and I’ll sell all my houses and live with you.”

“I don’t want you to live with me, you’re really messy and I like having a clean place, thank you very much,” Nick says scrunching up her nose, but she’s only being difficult for the sake of it. Her heart feels like it’s physically grown three sizes bigger, and every inch of her now superhuman heart is filled up with Harry.

“I love you,” Harry breathes out against her lips before kissing her again. “You’re my home. Please.”

“Please don’t sell all your houses,” Nick murmurs, and they’re standing at her doorway with Harry dripping wet and Nick still in nothing but her panties, but she’s not giving up so easily. Not when she’s about to put her entire heart on the line after promising herself she wouldn’t do it. “Keep one for the summer, I need to get a good tan if I’m gonna start getting papped more often.”

“Can’t get that in London,” Harry giggles, and she takes a step back, shaking her hair like a wet puppy. Nick’s gonna get kicked out of the building for sure the minute Harry moves in.

“Come on, you need to get out of those wet clothes,” she stretches out her hand and Harry grabs it, squeezing it.

“Is that a yes then?” she asks as she follows her back into the elevator, and Nick rolls her eyes, leaning down against the wall as the door closes.

“Like you’d take a no for an answer,” she says, pulling Harry towards her to kiss her one more time. Deep down, she still thinks someone’s gonna get their heart broken, and chances are, it’s gonna be her, but maybe that doesn’t have to matter until it happens. Maybe it won’t happen at all.

Either way, it’s definitely going to be worth it.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY IT'S SO CHEESY but not really i'm not sorry at all. find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/ofstellardust) if you wanna yell at me or something.


End file.
